The Dresden Fillies: Extra Stuff
by psychicscubadiver
Summary: Collected here are the various omakes, bonus chapters and any other extra content from the Dresden Fillies series. All of the following are non-canon to the Dresden Fillies series, except 'Ditzy Dream' and 'Obsidian Journeys' which are companion pieces to 'The Dresden Fillies: False Masks'. All stories containing spoilers will include a disclaimer.
1. Holiday Present

WARNING: The following is non-canon to the Dresden Fillies and contains spoilers for the Dresden Files up to the end of book 13 (Ghost Story). That said, if you do chose to read it don't be put off by the opening.

The Dresden Fillies: Holiday Present

"And you'll never defeat us now!" Nightmare Chrysalisombra cackled. "With our powers combined not even the Elements of Harmony can save you!"

The six ponies facing them, hurt and tired, bowed their heads in defeat. They had already captured Luna and Celestia and taken control of Canterlot. Everything really did seem hopeless, but there was one person who hadn't given up just yet.

"We'll show you!" Harry Dresden yelled, his long coat flapping in the breeze. His pony friends looked at him and the sight of him staring down the worst villain they had ever seen without flinching made them feel strong again.

"What's this?!" screamed the fused creature that threatened them. "We drained your love, haunted your dreams and filled your waking mind with darkness and greed. None of you should be able to face us. How do you still stand?!"

"Because," Dresden said pulling out his staff and preparing to fight the hideous beast, "they're my friends and for them I'll stand up to any danger. Because they need me, I have to be brave." Then with his last word there was a giant flash of light that blinded everypony in a hundred miles. When it finally disappeared, Dresden's pentacle had changed. The silver star gleamed brightly on a braided silver chain, and the empty spaces had been replaced with emeralds.

"I knew it." Princess Twilight said, landing next to Dresden and folding her wings. "All along, you've been the secret Seventh Element we've been searching for: The Element of Courage!" Her tiara started to glow and so did all of the other Elements.

"No!" Nightmare Chrysalisombra screamed but they were too late. A rainbow erupted from the seven friends twisting and curving across the landscape, reversing all of the dark magic and healing everypony who was hurt. Nightmare Chrysalisombra tried to escape, but nothing could stop the power of Harmony now that it was complete. Another flash of light appeared and it was even brighter than the first. Now there was nothing but an ugly statue on the castle lawn instead of a mad tyrant.

"We did it!" Dash cheered.

Pinkie Pie started laughing and bouncing, her flat mane poofing back to its normal shape. "You know what this calls for? A party!"

"Well, I certainly know who should be the guest of honor, darling." Rarity said glancing at the befuddled wizard.

Dresden was still examining his new pentacle and it took him a second to realize who she was talking about. "Who me?"

"Shoot, darn, howdy, a' course we mean you." Applejack said with a smile. "Yore the one what sent that varmint a packin', ain't ya?"

"You did save us all." Fluttershy said softly.

Dresden blushed, ran a hand through his hair and then looked at Princess Twilight. Everypony was smiling, but there was something special in her grin that made his heart race. "To tell the truth, I was only so brave because there was one pony I couldn't bear the thought of losing." He went to one knee, putting him at eye level with the first pony he had ever met. Then he pulled out a little box with a specially shaped ring. "I love you, Twilight. Will you marry me?"

Everypony gasped, but Pinkie was the first one to recover. "Ahh! Now, I've got a wedding party to plan. That's so awesome-tastic!"

"Hang on, Pinkie." Dash interrupted. "Twilight didn't even−"

"Of course!" Twilight shouted, nuzzling Dresden happily. "And since I'm a princess now we can have a little castle outside of Ponyville and Princess Celestia will conduct our wedding and−"

"Hang on," Dresden interrupted. "If we do, there's someone I want to live with us in our castle."

Twilight cocked her head curiously. "Do you mean Mouse? I would love to have him here; he's the best dog ever."

Dresden chuckled. "Yes Mouse will definitely come, but I was talking about someone else. You see I secretly have a daughter named−"

"Maggie! Time for bed, little missy."

…

Maggie dropped her pencil in surprise, and twisted to glance at her Hello Kitty alarm clock. It was later than she had thought if Aunt Charity was already telling her to go to bed. The little red numbers said it was past nine 'o clock, but Maggie pouted. She was almost done with the latest chapter of 'The Dresden Fillies', and she didn't want to go to bed.

She had already started writing again when her bedroom door creaked open. For a moment she panicked, shutting the notebook in a hurry. Most of what she'd discovered about her father had been overheard when she was supposed to sleeping, or Molly said she shouldn't talk about, but had told her anyway. Uncle Michael and Aunt Charity had always been nice to her, but if they found her book, it would mean no TV for a week. Her fears were unwarranted, though, it was only Mouse in the doorway.

Maggie grinned and moved to hug him. After some head rubs and a few wet doggy kisses, she let him go and went back to her desk. Mouse snorted and glared at her, motioning his head towards her bed. Maggie frowned, understanding his meaning perfectly. "Come on, a few more minutes won't hurt."

Mouse just snorted again and stared at her. Maggie huffed and reluctantly put away her notebook. "Why do you take Aunt Charity's side all the time? You're my dog." At that he grinned and she stuck out her tongue in response. It didn't take long for her to change into her pajamas and slip between her My Little Pony sheets. The bed was full of plush ponies, but Maggie unerringly sought out her favorite, the Princess Twilight she had gotten for her birthday.

She lay there already imagining the rest of the story. Twilight would be overjoyed to let her stay. Then, Dresden would come back and apologize to Uncle Michael, and Aunt Charity and Molly for making them all think he was dead. He wouldn't have to apologize to Maggie, though, because she'd known all along that he was just busy saving Equestria. Then he'd take her back to live with Princess Twilight in their castle, and he'd teach her how to be a wizard while Twilight taught her how to turn into a pony whenever she wanted.

They'd be a family and live happily ever after.

Soft tears fell on her pillow, but Maggie just rolled over and hugged her Twilight doll even tighter. She'd be all right. After all, her daddy was the Element of Courage, so she could be brave, too.


	2. Foolish Mistake

WARNING: The following contains spoilers up to Chapter four of the Dresden Fillies: False Masks. It also contains a somewhat raunchy brand of humor. Read at your own risk.

**The Dresden Fillies: Foolish Mistake**

"Oh my goodness! It's so big."

Twilight paused just before knocking on the door to her guest room. That had been Rarity's voice, muffing slightly thanks to the thick door between them, but Twilight had no trouble identifying it as her friend's. A friend who had shown open interest in Blackstone and was now alone with him in his room.

Twilight shook her head. She'd already jumped to the wrong conclusion after that scene with Pinkie. Rarity was probably talking about his coat or some other object. It was ridiculous to assume that whatever was happening in there was improper.

Blackstone chuckled. "Yeah the size is impressive, but how you use it is what's important. Want a demonstration?"

_Obviously talking about an object, maybe a new staff or some other magical item. Absolutely nothing wrong with this. _Twilight told herself. If her mind weren't so adamant about remaining in the gutter she wouldn't have imagined a faint rumble of arousal in Blackstone's voice.

"Oh, yes!" Rarity replied in a voice more sultry than Twilight had ever heard from her. Creaking bed springs soon followed the reply, and the purple unicorn was finding it harder and harder to justify what she was hearing.

"Oh sweet mother of Celestia that feels amazing!" Rarity cried less than a minute into … their activity. Twilight reached for her last excuse, the only possible thing that might explain this other than the obvious conclusion.

_Maybe he's giving her a massage?_

Blackstone gave a wordless grunt, the same sound any health virile stallion would give when he was …

_Giving a really deep tissue massage?_

"Oh, Blackstone!" Rarity screamed. "This is the best sex I've ever had!"

Twilight's jaw dropped open and a crimson flush spread across her face. For a moment she considered running away from that terrible door and never mentioning this to anypony, but then the anger came. This time there was no denying what had happened. This time Pinkie was not going to save him from the fate he so richly deserved.

A burst of magic tore itself from her horn and the door slammed open, leaving a huge dent and a spider web of cracks in the wall behind it. Twilight levitated into the room her eyes on fire, ready to deliver her righteous judgment and wrath upon the lecherous stallion.

Only to find the room, and bed, empty. The sole occupant of the room and the one apparently responsible for the sounds she'd been hearing grinned at her from the dresser.

"So," Bob leered, "how'd you like the show?"

His screams echoed throughout the library for the hour, and it would be an understatement to describe them as 'soul-chilling'.


	3. Kindred Spirits

The Dresden Fillies: Kindred Spirits

The autumn air was crisp, and the breeze that blew off Lake Michigan was cold. Mac was not bothered by the temperature. Not only was his tavern mostly underground, but the fire in his wood burning stove provided plenty of heat.

The low light from the windows and irregularly spaced lamps revealed a room that was rough and homey, but meticulously clean. Everything was ready for a new day of business, so all Mac had to do now was wait for his usual clientele to arrive.

A series of knocks, patient but powerful, sounded from nearby. Mac frowned. It was too early in the morning for any of his usual business, and besides, none of his customers knocked before entering. The knocks came again and Mac realized they were coming from the service entrance. It was a delivery.

The back door opened with a small squeal of the old hinges. Mac grunted; he needed to oil those. On the other side of the door was a red-coated pony hitched to a large wooden wagon. The draft pony looked like a Clydesdale, but built on a smaller scale. He was stocky, only about five feet tall, but heavily lined with muscle. Most people would have been surprised, if not by the presence of an actual horse-drawn wagon or the appearance of the pony pulling it, then certainly by the absence of any driver.

Mac just nodded and asked, "Cider?"

"Eeyup," Big Mac replied, shrugging off the yoke set on his considerable shoulders.

Mac ran his hands over one of the large casks on the back on the wagon. There were two full of non-alcoholic cider, four of hard cider, and a pony keg – Mac gave a mild snort at that thought – of applejack. He gave a grunt in appreciation and moved aside so they could start unloading.

The work went quickly, both of them long used to such labor, and soon the casks of cider were squared away. Mac shouldered the apple brandy and carried it back to his aging room. He'd wait a bit longer before bottling it. On the way back, he stopped in his office to grab a few items.

He re-emerged to find Big Mac stoking the fire in his stove. The jingle of coins caught the pony's attention, and he turned to face Mac. The small bag was full of gold coins − a necessary part of business when not all of your suppliers used American currency – and Mac tossed it underhand into a waiting hoof.

Big Mac considered the bag carefully, and judged it to be the proper weight. He raised an eyebrow at the other items the barkeep had brought with him: a pair of dark bottles and a tankard with an oversized handle.

"On the house." Mac promised before pouring one of the dark bottles into the tankard, careful to achieve just the right amount of head on the beer. Big Mac took the drink with a nod of thanks and Mac replied with a grunt.

One sip of heavenly stout later, Big Mac nodded in approval. Mac opened his own bottle and took a seat next to him. They enjoyed their beers in a companionable silence as the noise of the city above drifted by them. Eventually both bottle and tankard were empty.

"Good brew," Big Mac said.

Mac grunted with an air that clearly said 'of course', but he softened it with a slight smile of gratitude.

Still, deliveries didn't make themselves, so Big Mac ambled back to the waiting wagon. Mac followed and watched as the pony shrugged back into his yoke.

"Next year?" Mac asked.

"Eeyup," Big Mac replied.

The barkeep waved as the workhorse plodded off. Then, he turned and went back inside to get some oil for those squeaky hinges.

It was almost an hour later that his first customer appeared. The tall wizard sauntered his way over to the bar while his guardian waited closer to the door. The massive dog sniffed the air, then gave a chuffing, almost amused, bark before settling down.

"Hey Mac," Dresden said, visibly relaxing as he sat down at the bar. "How's my favorite chatterbox?"

Mac just grunted and started making a steak sandwich. The wizard always ordered one for himself, often sharing it with his dog.

Dresden glanced up at the chalkboard behind the bar, just noticing the large message Mac had scrawled on it. "Fresh cider? I was going to order a beer, but that sounds tempting. What do you think; is it worth missing out one of your excellent ales?"

Mac smiled. "Eeyup."

…

Big Mac stepped out of the Way onto the fresh green grass of Sweet Apple Acres. He paused for a moment to wipe the ichor stains and flecks of exoskeleton off his hooves. A few minutes of trotting brought him within view of the main barn and the orange pony repairing the old plow.

"There you are, Big Mac," Applejack said, giving a small sigh in relief. "I've been lookin' fer you all day." She glanced behind him at the empty wagon. "I shoulda known you were just makin' some deliveries. Still, it'd make me feel better if you'd tell me when you're goin' somewhere. So who'd you visit? Was it anypony I know?"

Big Mac thought for a moment. "Nope," he replied.


	4. Ditzy Dream

**WARNING: **The following contains spoilers up to Chapter sixteen of the Dresden Fillies: False Masks. Unlike the first three stories this one is actually canon, and occurs concurrent to False Masks, giving another perspective on some of those events.

The Dresden Fillies: Ditzy Dream

Derpy Hooves was in love.

At least, she thought she was in love. She wasn't really certain, because she'd never been in love before. Still, the signs from the romance novels she occasionally read were all there: rapid heartbeat, constant blush, anxiety, and the inability to get him off her mind. Clumsiness was another sign, but she didn't count it. Derpy was clumsy all the time, in love or not.

It had struck like a bolt out of the clear blue sky. She had just been delivering mail on her normal route when _he_ appeared. The window of Rarity's boutique flew open and he stuck his head out, examining the street around him.

He was tall, even for a stallion, and his horn came to a wicked point. His jawline was hard and angular, giving way to leanly muscular neck. His eyes smoldered red-orange and his messy white mane stirred in the slight breeze. His scowl was heavy, but not mean, and Derpy wondered what could have caused it. He was the archetypical 'bad colt', but unlike most of them, he pulled the look off without even a hint of effort. As though everything she saw was just him in his natural state.

Without even realizing it, her hoof moved to wave at him. Mortified, she was stuck between two desires: both hoping he hadn't seen her staring, yet wanting him to notice her. One of her two wishes was granted as he spotted her. His scowl vanished as he gave an amused snort. A voice from inside the building, probably Rarity, called out, and he disappeared back into the room.

Derpy's heart thudded in her chest like a booming thunderstorm. What did his reaction _mean_?! Was… was he laughing at her? But his scowl had disappeared. Was he relieved? Did he think she was cute?

_Of course not,_ her insecurities whispered. _Even if he missed the eyes, there's no way he'd miss the messy mane. Or the extra pounds from eating one too many muffins. There's no way a stud like him would be interested in you._

_You don't know that! _she argued. But all the same she poked herself in the flank, feeling a little bit of jiggle. It wasn't like she was fat, but still she probably – no, definitely – could stand to exercise more and lay off some of the more sugary pastries.

The clock boomed out the hour, and her responsibilities came back to her in a rush. She needed to be going. Introspection didn't get mail delivered or routes finished.

…

"I heard Blackstone is staying at the library with Twilight Sparkle," Sugar Leaf said, too busy with her gossip to notice Derpy. Normally, being ignored miffed her, but she didn't mind this time. Derpy wanted to hear what they were talking about, and speaking up would interrupt them.

Blossomforth rolled her eyes. "That's old news. Everypony's known that for at least an hour. _I _heard he's a Prince from one of the nomadic Mustangian herds. And," she added with a sly smile, "that he's here in Equestria to look for a bride."

Sugar Leaf frowned. "I heard he was the disowned heir of a Saddle Arabian sheik, forced to wander the world making his way with only his wits and his magic."

Those were two of the more reasonable tales that Derpy had heard as she delivered mail. The rumor mill was working overtime in Ponyville, and its products ran the gamut from possible to unlikely to completely outlandish. Most ponies took what they heard with a grain of salt, at least. Honey Drop was the only mare crazy enough to believe that Blackstone was an inter-dimensional wanderer transformed into a pony for the purpose of sharing his wisdom − and passion − with the mares of Equestria.

Derpy suspected something far more ordinary was true. His rough appearance and air of danger probably came from exploring the badlands at the edge of Equestria. Twilight was one of the foremost ponies in the field of magical research, and he was probably conferring with her on some kind of ancient and mysterious artifact discovered during one of his adventures into uncharted territory. Blackstone must live out in the wild frontier, armed with only a sharp mind and sharper quips, escaping savages and defeating monsters with a single well placed spell. But the nights on the frontier were lonely, and no matter what artifacts he found, he couldn't fill that empty place in his heart. Until, of course, he found the right mare. Somepony to brave the dangers with him. Maybe a pegasus. Maybe a certain gray-coated pegasus named−

"Derpy. Hello, Equestria to Derpy," Blossomforth said, waving her hoof in front of Derpy's face. The mailmare flushed in embarrassment as she realized what had happened.

"M-mail for you," she stuttered, shoving a hoofful of envelopes at Sugar Leaf. "Sorry about that. I just zoned out there for a second."

"Thinking about muffins?" Blossomforth teased, as Sugar Leaf rifled through her mail, checking to make sure that everything there belonged to her.

Derpy bristled at that, but she fought not to show it. Blossomforth hadn't meant to hurt her feelings, though she had been insulting. Just because Derpy liked muffins − okay, loved muffins − didn't mean they were all she thought about.

"Thanks for the mail, Derpy," Sugar Leaf said tucking it behind one ear. All the letters had been correct; Derpy had made sure they would be. Still, her eyes made reading difficult and it wasn't uncommon for her to slip up. "See you girls later. I'm headed home for the moment."

"Why?" Blossomforth asked, echoing Derpy's unspoken question.

Sugar Leaf grinned. "They say the way to a stallion's heart is through his stomach. I plan to put that to the test." She balanced her purchases from the market on her back and trotted off.

"Not a bad idea," Blossomforth murmured, pondering something. "I think I'll head home, too. Have a nice day, Derpy."

"Thanks," Derpy said, glancing at her saddlebags and thinking about the special muffin she had been saving for lunch. Sugarcube Corner always sold out of Double Chocolate muffins early, but thanks to her mail routes, she was always awake in time to snag one. Still, it wasn't doing her waistline any favors, and Sugar Leaf was probably right about the fastest way to a stallion's heart…

…

Blackstone was amazing.

Derpy had been in the market finishing up the last of her morning deliveries when it had happened. Rear Axle had lost control of his cart-moving spell and sent the entire vehicle barreling towards Blackstone and three little fillies. Everypony in the market froze with shock and fear as the fillies screamed. Then Blackstone had stepped forward, put a shield around the fillies huddled behind him, and smashed the dangerous contraption like it was nothing. He even seemed embarrassed at how thoroughly he had crushed the cart in defending them.

As the crowd gathered around him, everypony wanting to thank and congratulate him, Derpy slipped into their midst. She frowned as she saw Carrot Top bump against him a few times in the press, running her hoof across the new coat he must have gotten from Rarity. She would have thought better of her friend, but Blackstone didn't even seem to notice. Then Applejack surged through the crowd, her little sister and Applebloom's friends solidly in tow. She nearly tackled him in a hug, and for a second, every mare in the crowd bristled with restrained anger and envy. Soon, though, it became apparent they were friends − _just _friends, as far as Derpy could tell. The stallions and foals began to drift away, getting back to work, shopping or play. Some of the older mares left too, but there were plenty of young ones still hanging around. Everypony wanted a chance to introduce herself, but at the same time, nopony wanted to seem desperate or too forward.

Applejack left with a smile and a wink to all the hopeful mares. Blackstone seemed confused by her last statement until he turned around and saw all of his admirers waiting for him. Shock, then nervousness flitted across his face before he settled on resignation. He looked at something outside the crowd, before calling Roseluck forward and asking her something. Everypony waited anxiously as they talked. Bon-bon was practically dancing hoof to hoof as she nervously clutched a small bag, probably filled with her candy.

Roseluck gave him one of her roses, which he tucked into his coat pocket like a gentlecolt out of a story. Then Daisy offered him flowers, which he also accepted. That opened the flood gates and mares pressed forward, each one pressing a gift on him. Derpy once again thought of the delicious muffin she'd been planning to have for lunch.

_Who are you kidding?_ her insecurities asked. _Roseluck is prettier than you. Cloudkicker is in better shape. Bon-bon is a better cook. Lemon Hearts is smarter. Lily is funnier. Blackstone could choose almost any mare in town. Why would he pick you?_

Derpy wished she had a good answer for that, but she didn't. So she turned and left while the rest of the mares were still busy plying Blackstone with their presents. Maybe she'd head over to the park and eat her lunch there.

Alone.

…

Somehow, Blackstone had pulled a vanishing act. Two days ago he had swept into town, sweeping all the single mares off their hooves, then the next day he was gone. Derpy had heard there had been a fight between him and a bunch of out-of-towners at the library. She had also heard that the Royal Guard had gotten involved for some reason, because more than a few ponies had seen them arrive at the library.

Yesterday, there had been nothing. No guards, no Blackstone, no Twilight Sparkle or her friends. The whole town had gossiped and worried, but nopony had known anything. This morning, at least one of those questions had been answered. The front page story of Equestria Daily read, "Princess Celestia's Student Kidnapped by Secret Society!" Derpy had slowly and carefully read over that title twice to make certain her eyes weren't fooling her. It sounded like a tabloid article, but it would certainly explain where Twilight had gone.

She was halfway through the article when her boss, Boxy Brown, stormed into the employee's ready room, his saddlebags overflowing with heart-decorated letters. "Attention, mail-carriers!" he barked. Everypony put down their breakfasts or newspapers and stopped talking. "Who in the nine pits of Tartarus is this 'Blackstone' character? We've got a ton of mail addressed to him, some of it directed to the public library, most of it without any address listed. Does anypony know where he lives?"

"I wish," one mare said, tittering softly. Everypony else just shrugged their shoulders.

Derpy thought hard. She didn't know for sure, but if her suspicions were correct…

Twilight had been kidnapped and taken away the same day that Blackstone had fought those strange ponies. He had been staying at the library with Twilight, and now she was in Canterlot at the Royal Palace. She raised her hoof.

Mr. Brown glanced quizzically at her. "You got a question, Miss Hooves?"

Derpy shook her head. "No. I'm volunteering. I don't know where Blackstone lives, but I think I know where he is right now."

Everypony seemed surprised at that, and a low buzz of conversation started. Boxy Brown, though, adjusted quickly. "Okay, good. While Derpy deals with that, I want some ponies covering her normal route. Wind Whisperer, your route is slow this time of year, I'll need you to pick up this slack."

"Oh, c'mon, boss," one stallion complained. "Are you seriously taking her word that−"

"Yes," Mr. Brown interrupted. "And unless you've got a better idea about Blackstone's whereabouts, Derpy's the mare for the job." He turned towards her and his voice became admonishing. "But I do expect results. Don't make me regret this."

"No, sir!" Derpy saluted, transferring the copious amounts of fan mail into her satchel. Ponies could say what they wanted about her − and a few of the more insensitive ones did just that − but nopony had ever accused her of being lazy. If there was a job to be done, then she would do it.

And if it meant she got to see Blackstone again, that was just a bonus.

…

The security measures at the Royal Palace were surprisingly intense. Derpy had never delivered anything there before, but she had not expected nearly so much magical poking and prodding. At last, the guards were satisfied that her delivery was harmless and her employee ID was valid. They let her go with an apology for the necessity and directions to Blackstone's room. That last part had caused her to flush slightly. _His _room. Oh Tartarus, what would she do if he invited her in?!

_Wake up from your daydream, _her insecurities told her coldly. Derpy pushed that thought to the back of her mind, but still her spirits weren't quite so high as they had been a moment ago.

At last she reached the doorway, though she hesitated to knock. It was a little after nine, still early for some ponies. Yet, she needed to get this delivered so she could get back to her regular route. But her mane was a mess from flying here.

She had a job to do. Who cared about her mane?

Blackstone might…

Derpy nervously sought out a bathroom and did what she could to make herself a little more presentable. Five minutes later she stood outside his door again, but still couldn't bring herself to knock. It took several deep breaths and what little 'psyching-up' she could manage before she gave three timid knocks.

There was no response.

Only the desire to justify Mr. Brown's faith in her kept Derpy from fleeing. The guards had confirmed that Blackstone was here. She couldn't let this become just another of her 'derp-ups'. A slow breath, counting to ten as she did, served to calm her. Then, before she could think about it, her hoof darted forward and laid a firm, but courteous, beat on Blackstone's door.

There was grumbling and groaning on the other side of the door. She had woken him up. Oh, Tartarus, she'd _woken him up_. She froze in shock, wings clamped to her barrel, which had the fortunate side effect of preventing her from flying away.

Eventually, the door opened and a bleary-eyed Blackstone emerged. He regarded her with suspicion as he fought back a yawn. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Good morning, sir," Derpy replied, years of ingrained speeches saving her from having to think about what she was saying. "I have a delivery of thirty-seven letters from Ponyville for you. If you wouldn't mind signing for them, I can be on my way and out of your mane." Running on full autopilot, she even added a professional smile at the end.

He looked her over, glancing at her eyes, but not staring at them. He seemed to be evaluating her somehow. After a few moments, Blackstone shrugged and waved her forward. "Okay, bring it in. I've got a pen in here somewhere."

Carefully not thinking about what she was doing, Derpy followed him in and sorted his mail out of her satchel. By the time she was done, he had a pen gripped in his magic and was finishing his signature.

"Thank you, sir," she said, glancing down at her clipboard. Either her eyes were playing tricks on her again, or Blackstone's hornwriting was terrible. His 'Blackstone' looked like it read 'Harry Dresden', whatever that meant.

"No worries," he said through another yawn. Derpy turned to walk towards his open door, staring pointedly ahead. Nothing exciting had happened, but she was more than relieved that everything had just gone smoothly.

She should have known her good luck wouldn't last that long.

What she slipped on, she didn't know. Why she spun around to crash into Blackstone, she didn't know either. How they had tumbled across the room together to end up with him straddling her in a position that would politely be called 'compromising', she still didn't know.

Like always, she just didn't know what went wrong.

Even then, the situation would have been salvageable. If only she had apologized for knocking him over, they could have shared an embarrassed laugh about the whole situation. But the weight of a stallion, the smell of another pony so close to her, the feeling of his hot breath on her shoulder all conspired with her 'not thinking' frame of mind. And the result…

"Please be gentle," she squeaked.

Blackstone shot upwards like she had zapped him with a lightning bolt, slamming his head into the edge of the table above them. He started cursing in pain as Derpy realized what she had said. Her face flushed beet red, and she scooted out from under him in a panic.

Dear. Sweet. Celestia.

Had she just said that? _Had she really just said that?!_

She had, and from Blackstone's reaction, she was sure he had heard it, too. Derpy was beyond mortified. She wanted to be anywhere – _anywhere – _but here right now. So why wouldn't her wings work?

Blackstone finished complaining about the table and looked at her, a nearly undetectable flush coloring his dark cheeks. "I'm not−"

"I'm sorry!" Derpy blurted out, her eyes watering. "I didn't mean to bump into you or fall like that or say that. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I know you're important and smart and powerful, and I'm just me. I-I shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry." Derpy grabbed her bag and started to run, tears now flowing freely. But she felt a tug that grabbed her tail and pulled her back.

She turned, still sobbing, to see Blackstone look at her with sorrowful eyes. "No. I'm sorry. I know that I'm attractive, but I'm a book you can't judge from the cover. You don't want to obsess over me. It will only get you hurt." Her tears slowed, as he turned from her, still speaking. "This isn't a romance, and I don't have a heart of gold beneath my gruff exterior."

He shuddered. "I've done bad things. Things I regret. I don't know you, but I can guarantee you deserve someone better. I'm not boyfriend material." He gave a hollow chuckle, devoid of any mirth, and murmured to himself, "Just ask Susan."

Derpy wiped away the tear tracks left on her face and stared at him.

_Yeah, right. He's nice enough to spare your feelings but –_

_Stop._

She looked at Blackstone with new eyes. He had power, knowledge, looks, and highly placed connections. But despite all that, she could see the same poisonous self-doubt in him that she had always fought. He wasn't trying to spare her feelings. He honestly thought he was a bad pony and that she deserved better.

Derpy took two steps forward then wrapped Blackstone in a hug that surprised him. His back stiffened, though he didn't fight to free himself. She just grinned and squeezed a little tighter, refusing to let the hug be awkward.

"You're right that I shouldn't obsess over you, but you're wrong on everything else. Someday you'll meet a mare who's perfect for you. Somepony that'll make you smile even when she isn't there. I can tell that I'm not her, but don't lose hope. You'll find her."

She gave him a quick peck on the cheek and ran while he was still fumbling for a reply. In minutes, she soared above Canterlot wild and free as the wind, only her satchel and clipboard weighing her down.

Tears streamed from her eyes, and Derpy couldn't say if it was from the wind shear or not. Maybe when she got back to Ponyville she'd see if Sugarcube Corner had any Double Chocolate muffins left. And maybe she'd see that cute clockmaker in line there. You never knew, after all.

Blackstone would find his special somepony; Derpy was sure about that.

Was it crazy to believe that someday she might find hers too?


	5. Obsidian Journeys

WARNING: The following contains minor spoilers for the Dresden Files up to Book Fourteen (Cold Days). This chapter is some slight backstory for Obsidian during the events of False Masks, and is actually canon to the Dresden Fillies. Shake well and enjoy.

The Dresden Fillies: Obsidian Journeys

Lord Obsidian Spire, the former Prince of Unicornia, shuddered as his heart beat within his chest.

What had once been a sign of life was now alien and unpleasant. The black vapor that coursed through his veins in place of blood surged at the call of the entity that had gifted Obsidian with his unnatural life. The various creatures that served the unicorn lich recognized the signs of his displeasure and scuttled away from him in fear.

His Mordite heart pulsed, sending vibrations coursing through his body. When they reached the bones of his inner ear, they became a voice that he alone heard. "Abandon your search for now. I have another task for you."

Loathing rushed through him. Once, he could have refused that command. Once, he would not have even heard it. But with each new life, each new body, he fell more and more under the Walker's sway. "Do you wish that I return to the Gates? I already have sentries waiting there should any part of their defense weaken," he replied stiffly. The sound of his words resonated in his chest, reaching his heart − and through it his master.

"No. An opportunity has arisen elsewhere. A door was opened to the world of your birth, and I discovered something very interesting." The voice turned hard, and pain − another almost-forgotten sensation − swept through Obsidian. "Why did you never tell me that the Banished Sisters had settled in your world?"

Nausea gripped Obsidian in addition to the torment wracking his body. "I don't know them!" he forced out, straining against his treacherous heart. He cast his mind back, remembering what little he knew of Equestria from each of his returns. "You mean the Royal Sisters?" he guessed. "How do you know of them? Alicorns are native to my world, and uncommon even there." The pain ended, and Obsidian staggered upright with a gasp. Old hatred flared within him at such treatment.

"Of course you would be blind to the truth," He Who Walks Behind mused.

"The truth?" Obsidian asked. "They were strong, yes, but I have killed alicorns before. I even stole the magic of one and bound it within an amulet. Why do those two concern you?"

"It is not your concern. That was not the opportunity to which I referred. The Starborn has left his world for theirs." Knowledge of an alien world and the path to it entered Obsidian's mind like pickaxe driven into his skull. He bit back a howl of pain, gritting his teeth hard enough to chip a few of them. "Visit it. There will be someone to help you cross over at the specified place. The Watchman and other, lesser wizards will confront you. Kill them, but let one of his mages survive to tell the tale. I want the Starborn to know that you did this."

"And what will I get in exchange?" Obsidian asked. Without warning he was immersed in enough agony to make his earlier torment seem like a mild ache. Minutes or hours passed; time was lost to Obsidian as his mind was occupied with pain. Eventually, the torture stopped, and he dropped to the ground like a discarded toy.

For a few minutes, he only lay still. Then, hurt but undaunted, Obsidian spoke again. "For centuries I have searched the Astral Plane for my world so that I may take my birthright. I have assaulted the Outer Gates at your command, fought the Watchman time and time again, and died many deaths for your cause." He struggled to his hooves, refusing to show weakness even before a power that could crush him. "If I do this, you must guide me to my world. No longer will I wander this benighted place."

Obsidian braced himself, but the pain did not come. "I could erase you this second," He Who Walks Behind stated. Not threateningly, but as though explaining a simple fact to a slow student. "I could drown you in pain and give you an eternal punishment that even the most damned of souls would shudder at. Would you still seek to defy me?"

"You could, but if you do," Obsidian replied. "You lose one of your finest pawns."

Obsidian's heart rumbled with laughter. "Hardly my finest, yet you are not without use. The Sisters have guarded their new home well, and another opened the door to me, so I still do not know its exact location. But I can give you knowledge that may lead you to your world. Of course, only once I am satisfied will I share it."

Obsidian's muscles spasmed and twitched, his long-dead nerves on fire. He fell to the ground and writhed there, helpless to stop something far worse than mere pain. His heart beat in a frenzied rhythm, sending waves of acid washing through his veins. Obsidian gasped and choked, primal fear eclipsing any other emotion he might have felt. When it was over, however long that took, he was frozen in shock, paralyzed with terror. For the briefest of moments, He Who Walks Behind had connected their minds, and Obsidian had gotten his first true look at the master he had served for so long.

"But remember," the voice whispered possessively. Obsidian could almost imagine dark tendrils twining around his form as He Who Walks Behind spoke. "You are mine, and even a useful tool will be unmade if it refuses the master's hand. Do you understand?" It was a long time before any response came.

"Yes," Obsidian whispered, burning with fear and hatred.

At last his heart slowed and stopped. The connection between them was severed, for now. Slowly, he rose to his hooves, carefully testing every part of his body. There were no wounds, which only made sense. He Who Walks Behind would not damage his tools before setting them to their work.

Obsidian barked an order, his voice reaching far and wide. Creatures of every description – most of them predators and parasites of one sort of another – assembled before him, twitching nervously. He inspected his demonic horde carefully, checking that none had run away during his episode. Those who did would be hunted down and killed before any other move was made. It was an excellent way to vent one's spleen, and Obsidian was in dire need of such an activity at the moment. However, there were no deserters this time. He would have to relieve his stress another way.

He reviewed his troops again, disregarding any that were especially valuable for their intelligence, strength, ferocity, or other attribute. Eventually, he settled upon a creature that looked like a stick insect mixed with a praying mantis. It was made crystal and chitin, and the anticipation of that material breaking under his hooves calmed his nerves considerably. "You," he said, dragging the demon forward with an ebony aura. It screeched in fear as the rest of his creatures closed ranks, preventing any sort of escape.

Obsidian's aura disappeared, and the stick-mantis rose to its considerable height, some fourteen or so feet. Obsidian waited patiently until it was ready. The lesser demon glanced behind itself at the nearly silent crowd. Hopefully, it would know better than to try running. He began with a light beam of magic, enough to hurt and enrage without dealing any real damage.

The lesser demon hissed and screeched, but refused to be goaded. Obsidian shot another, then another beam, each one a little more powerful than the previous. The mantis dodged the second and third, skittering in a quick zigzagging pattern, but Obsidian tracked its motions and scored a direct hit on the fourth. It screeched again, but this time the fear was tinged with more anger. Good. It wasn't any fun until they fought back.

Obsidian charged, roaring as he did so. The mantis flinched but stood its ground against him. The moment he came within its considerable reach, it struck out with barbed and hooked claws. Those long legs allowed it to attack from half a dozen different angles. A shield spell guarded his left side, and he stabbed out with a needle thin lance of energy on the right. Two of those limbs withdrew quickly, but the third wasn't fast enough and snapped like glass at the second joint.

A pillar of crystal and stone shot upwards from the ground, hoping to catch him by surprise. As though he hadn't seen that coming. Never pausing, he leapt over the attack and body-checked the mantis demon. Once, he could not have done that, but his resurrections within the Astral Plane had changed him. He was a head again taller than his original body, and had been gifted with a wider, stronger build. The spiral in his horn was no longer delicate fluting, but a trench more similar to the blood groove of a sword. His mane and tail had changed into living flames, cool his own skin, but blisteringly hot to any other. Predatory fangs sprouted in his mouth, and the hairs of his coat were covered in hooks and barbs like the skin of a shark.

Waiting patiently for the mantis to rise again was difficult, but he forced himself to do it. Once the lesser demon had staggered upright, it let out a hiss of rage and rushed him without reservation. This time, it feinted right, then twisted and threw several stabs from the left. The shield spell Obsidian used was a version of his own devising. Instead of starting from one point and spreading outward, it started from six separate points that each bloomed toward one another. It wasn't nearly as fast as a simple shield, but that was part of its purpose. His enemies had just enough time to thrust at him before his shield closed like a vise on their limb or weapon. Crystal and chitin splintered and broke as the fields of energy sheared off five stick-thin arms. The mantis screeched in pain. Obsidian smiled as some of its ichor splattered on him. Dismissing the shield, he strode forward, no longer bothering to hurry.

The crowd roared in approval and his creatures beat their chests or carapaces or whatever they possessed, egging him on to the finale. The mantis tried to move, but it had lost too many limbs. One or two desultory attacks were deflected with minor bits of telekinesis. A jet of acid sprayed towards his face, but a quick wind spell hurled it back into the lesser demon's mandibles. Its hisses turned soft and garbled as the caustic liquid ate away at its mouthparts. Obsidian grinned, knocking aside the last feeble attempts to harm him. The last of its resistance broken, he settled in to finish it off with his bare hooves.

Long ago, he would have considered such a brutal way of fighting beneath him, fit only for mud ponies and half-bird freaks. Time had changed his tastes considerably, and defeating an opponent in such a visceral manner was one of his few joys these days. Crystal cracked and chitin shattered beneath his hooves long after the cries of pain had died off. His own followers had grown silent in that time, the more intelligent among them cognizant that they could have just as easily been the one he chose.

An imperious hoof tap brought forth a furry hide, which Obsidian used to wipe off the worst of the ichor that covered him. There were no fine linens or towels in these hinterlands, but the hide did its job well enough. Once clean enough, he stabbed one hoof towards the tree line of a distant forest that bordered the moors they currently roamed.

"We march!" he roared to his creatures, and they howled, screeched, and grunted their approval in reply. The scouts loped or flew ahead and the rest shambled back to gather the few items and food of their primitive encampment. Obsidian considered their numbers. He had a few dozen at the moment, neither the least nor the most he had ever commanded. It should be enough. Far from the Gates, the Watchman would lose the bulk of his strength. The clever old ape would still be a force to contend with − the lich was not so foolish as to belittle his enemy's abilities − but it would be manageable.

His palanquin came forward, carried on the shoulders of his most brutish demons. He teleported on top of it and began to plan strategy. With any luck, they would find a few demons that could be pressed into service on their way to this world. These wild places were full of freaks and monsters that were neither strong enough to claim their own territory nor attached to any of the civilizations of the Astral Plane. Still, he could not plan to gain any more than a hooffull of followers.

The Watchman should be able to sense his presence and his alone. The old ape might bring a small group with him, counting on speed and surprise over pure strength. Such a group could be easily overwhelmed. However, the Watchman might choose to marshal an army and march in full strength. In either case, Obsidian needed an isolated country; one that would be difficult to approach unseen, but not so empty that he could not hide his own troops.

Should the Watchman attempt a surgical strike, Obsidian would act as bait and his demons would flank the wizards, cutting off retreat and their heads. Should an army threaten them, Obsidian would merely retreat from that field, having the more maneuverable force. From there, he could assault unfortified towns and such. It would be simple to wreck them, slaughter the population and move on to the next before the Watchman's army could pin him down. The Watchman's soft heart would force him to garrison those towns against such attacks, and then… Well, it was best to keep such plans fluid for now.

Time worked strangely within the Astral Plane, and not even centuries of life here had fully adjusted Obsidian to its whims. All too soon, they reached the indicated point, having met little in the way of resistance on their way here.

The Way was being held open by another ape. This one was lean and wolfish, a predatory glint in his eyes. He was not as tall as the Watchman, but Obsidian had seen few of these 'humans' that were. Stepping from the Astral Plane into a real world again was strange yet familiar, like using a spell he had memorized long ago for the first time in decades. A tingle washed over him, and his body shivered at the life of this new world. Once he was through, and satisfied that his warriors would survive the transition, he waved them on. One by one, with growls and curses and shoving, they filed through.

They were somewhere in the mountains, thick coniferous trees filling the valley around them. Knife-edge ridges stretched towards the sky, and though the season appeared to be late spring or early summer, there was still a chill in the air. The first step to a successful campaign, as his tutors had told him so long ago, was knowledge about the field of battle. Obsidian turned to the native of this world to extract exactly that. "Greetings, I am Lord Obsidian. Have you been told of my purpose here?"

The ape reacted calmly to him, though Obsidian could sense an undercurrent of fear in his posture. Those small eyes paled slightly, fading from light blue towards a more silver color. "I was merely instructed to open the Way for you by my Master, but he did tell me to render any reasonable aid necessary. You may call me Malvora."

"Very well, Badeater," Obsidian said, ignoring the glare from the ape. Just like the mud ponies and half-birds, his kind would know their place soon enough. "Do you have maps of this area?" The ape did, proving his limited worth.

Obsidian took them along with a compass made of an unfamiliar material. From there he began to plan. The country appeared perfect for his purposes, plenty of cover but limited means of entry. True, this area lacked any towns, but 'British Columbia' to the south seemed to have enough, should an army move against him. His strategy soon secure, all he had to do was wait.

It was only a day later when his scouts reported the Watchman's presence. He had taken the bait and brought a laughable number of his fellow apes to confront somepony of Obsidian's power. A mere four had entered the valley, two of them without the slightest aura of magic. Of course there would be other wizards with them, hidden somehow, but it would not have been possible to smuggle more than eight or ten of them without notice.

The course from here was simple. Obsidian would confront the four of them and wait until they sprung their trap before revealing his own. Orders were sent to his creatures, which concealed themselves. Obsidian chose to wait at the end of a large clearing he had prepared. The ground had been razed down to the bedrock and every piece of cover eliminated. They would have to face him here, upon the field of his choosing, or he would simply set fire to the forest and laugh as they burned.

The Watchman was the first to emerge from the concealment of the trees, three apes following his lead. They were shorter than him, but each of them was a brawny specimen. The shorter mage was a wizard of no small means, but a puppy compared to the lich he faced now. The other two were mere mortals, and carried themselves as such. One was dressed in shining armor with a sword slung from his belt, for all the good such toys would do. The other, darker ape carried not only a sword, but a sort of compact crossbow called a 'gun'. Badeater had explained such armaments before leaving, but Obsidian had no doubt that he could curse such a thing into useless scrap before a single 'bullet' could be fired at him.

"Obsidian," the Watchmen said, sounding tired. Obsidian grinned. So much was always hidden beneath that hood, but he could read the age and weariness in the clever old ape's voice. In some ways, time was Obsidian's finest weapon, as it ground all but him into dust.

"Lord Obsidian," he corrected, as the other three flinched at the sound of his voice. "Four little apes are all you brought? Has age enfeebled your mind, or dulled your senses?"

"I am fine, thank you for asking," the Watchmen replied with the barest hint of humor in his voice. "Years of fighting, and finally we come to our last battle. How many times have I killed you before?"

"Do you forget my title, ape? Have you forgotten that I am _Obsidian the Undying_!? This will be our last battle, but this time, victory shall be mine. We are far from your precious Gates, and the faeries cannot save you here." He drew upon his power and darkness swelled around him. "This ends today!"

"So it does," the Watchman said quietly, power thrumming in the air around him. "At whatever cost, this chapter closes." Obsidian knew the cost. It would be measured in the blood and bones of these apes.

And then the magicless humans drew their swords, unleashing a light so pure that it was painful. Shading his eyes against the glare, Obsidian began to wonder if he had made a mistake.


	6. Ruined Utopia

WARNING: The following contains spoilers up to Ghost Story (Book 13) in the Dresden Files and is not canon to the Dresden Fillies. Instead it looks at a different possibility. What if instead of Dresden finding the Canon Equestria, a rather different Equestria discovered the Dresdenverse later? A Conversion Bureau-inspired crossover with the Dresden Files.

The Dresden Fillies: Ruined Utopia

Author: psychicscubadiver

Editor: Silentcarto

Pre-reader: Coandco

"Our mages have issued their report on the Conversion Project, your Highness."

Princess Celestia nodded regally, her calm mask betraying little of her underlying excitement. "And the results?"

The messenger scanned down the scroll and broke into a smile. "A perfect transformation. The doctors want to wait a few days, run some more tests, and confirm that the process is completely safe, but they are being very hopeful about the results."

Princess Celestia allowed herself a small smile. At last, after years of planning, she could begin the purification of this world. When the professors of her academy had first approached her with a spell capable of reaching other worlds almost a decade ago, she would never have believed it would have come to this. Yet, after seeing the downtrodden realm of the humans, her heart had been moved. It was her – no, all of Equestria's − duty to bring enlightenment to such creatures.

The messenger continued reading. "They would like more subjects for testing, to confirm and perfect the process."

Princess Celestia flinched internally, though the emotion never made it to her face. She had wanted to perform testing only on those humans who were already near death, so that if the potion failed, nothing was truly lost. However, her mages insisted that they needed healthy subjects. It was with a heavy heart that she had granted their requests. It was a sacrifice that could never be repaid, but would always be remembered. "Very well. Tell Lt. Shade to retrieve the lowest estimate of humans the doctors say they need. He should only take those without homes or family that would miss them."

Though they didn't know it yet, those humans would pave the way for a better tomorrow. Her heart soared as the future unfolded before her eyes. It would be the work of years, maybe even decades, but eventually she would transform these creatures into pure-hearted Equestrian citizens. Against their will, if necessary, but she devoutly hoped it would never come to that. She didn't pretend that the task would be easy, but she and her country were more than equal to whatever obstacles would appear.

Before her messenger could continue, the great doors of her throne room were thrown open in panic. "Your Highness!" bellowed a guard as he charged towards her, performing only the barest minimum of a proper bow. "Your Highness, there is a human at the gates!"

Princess Celestia carefully concealed her slight irritation. Her guard was running as though Discord himself was on his tail. True, it was disconcerting that a human had found the island, as it should be invisible to both man and machine, but such theatrics were an overreaction. "Have you taken them into custody yet?"

The guard flinched at the question, but stammered out his reply. "I-I'm sorry, but we tried to. He shattered our weapons and froze our hooves to the ground with a single spell. He let me go to tell you that he is the Emissary of Queen Mab, and that his liege instructed him to secure an audience with you immediately."

"He did what?" Princess Celestia asked in shock, but she quickly schooled her face into a blank mask. She had thought humans to be magicless, dependent upon their technology. She had evidently been wrong. Still, there was no reason to assume the worst. "Very well, then. Bring this human before me."

…

Twenty minutes later, a knock came at the door of the throne room. A herald stepped forth to announce their 'guest'. Celestia saw no harm in giving the human proper diplomatic concessions. She had hoped to delay a formal first contact for several more weeks, but perhaps she could still salvage something from this unexpected turn of events. The revelation that humans had magic was the more important consequence.

Still, she did have to wonder about this Queen Mab. From what she had learned of human governments, few of them were ruled by monarchs. More often, squabbling and ineffectual groups of politicians guided the countries of this world. The nations that still had royalty had reduced them to little more than figureheads. It was possible that this Queen Mab was another figurehead, but Celestia doubted it. Her messenger had spoken of being her emissary, not the emissary of his country. If this meeting went well, she could be seeing her first group of converts to the Equestrian cause, though she would be satisfied with a polite exchange of formalities.

"Announcing the Knight of Winter, former Warden of the White Council, Za Lord of the Lesser Fae and… " the herald sputtered a bit, but continued reading the titles the human had given him, "the Once and Future Burger King, Harry Dresden. He is here on behalf of his Mistress, the Queen of Air and Darkness, Ruler of the Unseelie Fae, and Monarch of Winter, Queen Mab, to entreat with Equestria's reigning Princess, the Unconquered Daystar, the Bringer of Dawn, the Unwavering Light, the Sovereign of all Equestria, the Eldest and Greatest of the Alicorns, the−"

"The modest, the humble," murmured a voice from beyond the closed doors. Celestia's supernatural hearing barely caught the quiet words, but she could still read the amused sarcasm in the speaker's voice.

"− Princess Celestia!" the herald finished as the doors were swept open. The human strode forward as though he owned the palace, and Celestia got her first look at him. He was tall, even for a human. Their bipedal structure put many humans on Princess Celestia's eye level, but this one exceeded her height by several inches, nearly reaching seven feet. He was thin as well, all of his features sharp and angular. A strong chin was covered in thin stubble which extended up to his high cheekbones. Small, dark eyes glimmered with interest as he inspected her in return. He carried a carved oaken staff almost as tall as himself in one hand. Unknown symbols covered its surface, lending it an exotic appearance. His clothing was unremarkable except for his long coat of black leather. Both the coat and staff buzzed with magic, but neither was half as strong as the man. Sir Dresden moved with a predator's easy grace as he strode smoothly into the room.

Celestia's eyes considered him curiously. Everything she had learned told her that humans were magicless, but this man obviously proved otherwise. His strength was on par with that her greatest mages, though Twilight had greater potential. Still, as surprising as it was, she had no need to fear him. He was more powerful than her guards, certainly, but he did not even begin to reach her level. If he were half as observant as he appeared, then he would know that too. Hopefully that would keep any of the aggression humans were prone to exhibit under control and they could have a pleasant conversation.

Sir Dresden stopped a touch closer to the throne than was appropriate and bowed. "Greetings, your Highness. My Queen has sent me here to extend her welcome, deliver some messages, and explain the rules of the game to you."

Princess Celestia was confused. "The game? You have come all this way and demanded an audience just for some royal human's pastime?" If there was a joke in this, she did not understand it.

He grinned wolfishly, a fact she found mildly unsettling. "Not quite. For starters, my Queen is not human, she's Fae, one of the Fair Folk." He chuckled. "And their games are matters of life and death. In this case, the existence of this island and possibly the realm which you come from as well."

At this, her eyes narrowed and she glared at him. Celestia neither liked nor trusted those who opened diplomatic channels with threats, whether subtle or direct. "For what reason do you threaten me and mine? We have done no harm to you or your queen." Her guard bristled with anger and more than a few spears were readied for action.

"I do not intendto threaten you," he replied. "I merely mean to let you know the danger you're in." Despite his reassuring words, he eyed both her and her guards carefully. Then he reached for something within himself, something Celestia only saw through her mystic senses. It was a wellspring of power, but not a source she had ever felt before. It was colder than the most remote mountain of the Northern Wastes, stronger than even the greatest Windigo. The magic did not come from him, though he was able to draw upon it, holding the merest fraction of its might within him. Celestia abruptly understood why his Queen was called the Monarch of Winter.

As impossible as it seemed, Princess Celestia had found an equal in this world.

She calmed herself, and regarded Sir Dresden with much greater interest. His queen was someone of consequence, though that made it even stranger that Celestia had never heard of her. Even more intriguing was his assertion that his queen was not human. So far as Equestria had been aware, humans were the only intelligent species on this world.

"Be at peace," Celestia commanded her guards. They reluctantly relaxed, but still glared at him. "I apologize for taking your warning the wrong way. I had thought it an implied threat. However, I would be very grateful if you would explain this danger to me. We were unaware we faced any such thing."

"And I should know better than to kick a hornet's nest," Sir Dresden mumbled under his breath. He let that cold power slip away from him, and relaxed from his defensive stance. Aloud he went on. "Pardon me, your Highness, but I didn't mean that as a threat. I only meant to impress upon you how serious the situation is. My Queen does not wish conflict with your people, she only wishes to welcome you to our world and address an issue of your arrival: you and your nation are not signatories of the Unseelie Accords."

"Unseelie Accords?" Celestia asked, once confused. This human had brought all sorts of yet unknown information. Privately she wondered how her scouts had missed such things. "I have heard of the Geneva Convention, the Kyoto Protocol, and a number of other international statutes, but no word of these 'Accords' has ever reached me."

"They couldn't have, because the vast majority of people don't even know they exist. Most of the world believes that magic is a myth, but it thrives only inches beneath society's mundane surface. Whether they are good, bad, or indifferent, the supernatural nations hide themselves from mortal eyes even as they continue to exert significant influence on human countries. In fact, the Red Court of Vampires used to rule the entire continent of South America from the shadows."

Curious, Celestia frowned. "Used to? What happened to them?"

That was evidently a cue Sir Dresden had been waiting for, because his smile grew even wider and more wolfish. "I did."

The Princess of Day frowned at him. Even assuming his boast was true, what sort of person bragged about slaughtering an entire people? It was one more unpleasant foible that humankind would leave behind after they embraced her changes. "No doubt," she stated, her tone unimpressed. "However, that tells me little about these 'Accords'."

He shrugged. "They are similar to the Geneva Convention. They let everybody settle disagreements without all-out war or centuries-long blood feuds. Not that battles and vendettas don't happen anyway, but the Accords minimize the casualties."

Celestia mused over his words. The assertion that these shadowy, violence-driven nations secretly influenced humans would explain the cruelty and entrenched vices of this world. Clearly she would have root out the source of the humans' depravities before reforming them, but to work with the very creatures poisoning this world made her stomach turn. "If Equestria were to join, then what would be expected of us?"

Sir Dresden nodded seriously, seemingly ready to dispense with word games and get down to business. "I have brought a copy of the Accords for you to review. My Queen understands that you will likely need some time before making your decision. I can give you the Cliff Notes, though, if you'd like."

The phrase was one with which Celestia was unfamiliar, or perhaps it was an idiom that Clever Lingo's Loquacious Language Learner spell found untranslatable. Either way she was able to guess its meaning from context and nodded for him to continue.

"The big one is secrecy," he announced, dropping into an informal, although not improper, tone. "Nobody wants the normal world to know we're here, so no announcing your presence. Next is the code for interacting with other supernatural nations. Basically, it lets you get a mediator when conflicts arise, and gives some indication for who's at fault and what reparations are appropriate. It covers everything from personal duels up to all-out war. Also, there is no spirit of the law in the Accords," he said bitterly, as though he had personal experience with that fact. "There is only the letter and it is ironclad."

Princess Celestia watched him through half-lidded eyes. All this talk of war and secrecy only confirmed her thought that these Accords and the nations they served were the rootof all the evil in this world. Besides, were she to reform this world she could not remain forever in its shadows. Equestria was a beacon of hope for these people; no wonder these Accords sought to hide it away. Celestia softly shook her head. "You do not need to wait for my answer. Equestria will not join into this compact."

Sir Dresden's eyebrows raised considerably. "You sure?" he asked, in a tone of voice that made it clear he doubted her sanity. "If you aren't part of the Accords, then it's open season on you and your country. That would be a bad idea even if you weren't facing a laundry list of complaints."

"Complaints?" the Princess asked, both insulted and confused. "We only entered your world a few short weeks ago, and I have never left this island."

"Uh huh," he snorted, obviously unconvinced. "Here, I'll read the list off to you." He paused and drew out a small, battered slip of paper, clearly a personal reminder rather than any formal list. "First and foremost the Fomor accuse you of trespassing in their territory, and seizing their land."

"Preposterous. I raised this island from the ocean depths myself. These Fomor could not possibly have a claim to it."

"That might be true," Sir Dresden drawled, a sardonic tone to his voice, "except that the Fomor are aquatic. This area of the ocean is under their control. The land you took to make this island was uninhabited, but they are still angry that you violated their borders. If not for my Queen's intercession they would have already declared war."

Princess Celestia had not considered that possibility, but if it was as he said, then she was in the wrong. "Perhaps reparations can be made there. It was not my intention to take that which belonged to anyone. And the other complaints?"

He stared at her with a thoughtful look, then continued reading. "The White Council has some concerns over the wards you have been building into the island. I'm no expert, but their wizards claim that those wards are designed to destroy humans and anything of human manufacture."

"The Barrier is for defense only. We are aware of the missiles and bombs humans have developed. Should I allow us to be defenseless before them?" Celestia said.

"Right. And I'm sure you'd stop at 'defending' this island." He shook his head and continued before Celestia could speak. "Next, the White Court of Vampires has complained about you 'poaching their prey.' They claim you stole some people in thrall to them. Normally, I'd applaud that all day long, but those people haven't reappeared since the vamps reported them missing."

Sir Dresden shook with suppressed anger even as his voice became cold as the heart of a blizzard. "It's a little convenient that you managed to build something capable of specifically targeting humans after only a 'few weeks' in our world. A suspicious wizard might even wonder why you would start construction unless you know it works."

The accusation in his question was impossible to miss. With a heavy heart Celestia sighed. "It is true we took those humans, but not for the reasons you think. They were not used to test the Barrier. Such a thing would be barbaric and disgusting. Instead we have tested potions on them, making sure that the Transformation will work."

"The transformation?" he asked, skeptical, but less hostile.

"Yes," she said. This would be her chance if only she could impart in this man her passion to help this world. "You see, we come from a peaceful, prosperous world unlike this one. Wars, crime and violence are almost nonexistent. There are of course malcontents and other dangers – Equus is not a perfect world – yet we do not have even a tenth, even a hundredth of the conflict that occurs here. I have studied you from afar for some time now and come to the realization that something within your very nature compels you to this wrongdoing. Humanity also has good within it – many of your religions and philosophies embrace that goodness – but it is all too easily overshadowed by evil. The Transformation would change your body and certain primitive parts of your minds. The result would be the same individual, only better; less aggressive, more friendly, and not as ruthless."

"And you get that result how? By alchemically lobotomizing us?" Sir Dresden seemed less receptive than Celestia would have hoped. However, it was a valid concern if one was untrusting, and given the world they faced, distrust was only rational for a human.

Celestia shook her head. "Of course not. We were not even familiar with such a practice until your race introduced us to the concept. It would simply change the consumer into a pony – age, gender and personality unchanged. The race of pony would depend upon the human, but each one would be happy and healthy in their new, improved body."

Sir Dresden's hand curled into a fist so tight that she could see his bones press to the surface. "How many people didn't survive this potion?" His voice was quiet and unshaken, yet all the more terrible for its calmness.

There she could not blame him. "Fifty-three. Carlos Aguero, Josephine Paulson, Timothy McGovern…" She listed every one of them. Celestia had forced herself to learn the name of every human who died in their attempt to help these poor people. It was the least she could do for them. Sir Dresden remained silent as she recited. Celestia gave the last name, and raised her eyes to meet that of those of the human mage. "I am sorry, and if there had been any other way we would have taken it. Monkeys or chimps would not have worked; we had to use humans. I know that such a sacrifice can't be repaid but–"

"Don't call it a sacrifice," Sir Dresden said, his voice hard. "They didn't make that choice willingly."

Silence ruled the room before Celestia gave a diplomatic nod. "Call it what you will, but we shall always be grateful to them. They have paved the way for this planet's rebirth. For its redemption."

"Look," Dresden said, any diplomatic tone gone. "Aside from your insane racism or xenophobia or whatever, you don't seem evil. I'm not willing to call you good, but hell, the White Court probably kills that many people every day, and they aren't the worst offenders by a long shot. If I were you, I'd turn around, go back to your perfect human-free world, and forget about us. That solves everyone's problems. If you're really stubborn enough to stay, then sign the Accords. You've made an enemy of at least three powerful factions, and you'd be adding a fourth by turning down my Queen's attempt at diplomacy. I doubt you and your soldiers will survive the week."

His anger still simmered beneath his surface, Celestia could read that from his body language alone, but he seemed earnest. He truly believed in what he was saying. As much as he hated her, he did not wish to see her dead. It wasn't much, but it was a start. It was something she could build on. "I understand, and I thank you. It means very much to me that you do not wish to see us dead. Yet, I cannot go. These factions may be powerful, but we will weather this storm. If you wish to change a world, you must be that change. I cannot help humanity while bowing to the powers that hold them bondage. Convey my highest respects to your Queen, as I wish no violence to come between us, but I cannot and will not sign her accords."

Sir Dresden sighed and massaged one of his temples with his free hand. "You're crazy, and it's going to get you killed. But you can't say I didn't warn you." His hand fell to his side and his formal tone returned. "I will give your response to my Queen. I'm certain the dragons will be glad to hear you refused her."

"Dragons?" the Princess asked. She was unaware their worlds shared that common trait.

"Dragons," he confirmed. "They can smell all the gold and gems you're storing. They held back because of the Accords. Now they will come for them."

Celestia frowned at him. "I have fought dragons before."

He chuckled darkly, and it echoed in the otherwise silent chamber. "Not like these."

"The greatest fire can begin with but a spark. I will cleanse this world and bring it peace and prosperity. Against that, all else is meaningless." Her guards nodded. They were volunteers and believed in the reformation of humanity as strongly as their Princess.

Sir Dresden shook his head sadly and murmured something to himself. Even with her hearing Celestia was only able to catch one word: 'Aurora'. Without a word of farewell, he opened a rift in reality and stepped through it.

In less than eight hours, the Fomor launched their first offensive.

…

Three weeks later, the island was no longer a tropical paradise. It was barren battlefield.

Celestia sat in the remains of her castle on a rebuilt throne. She was dozing as Lt. Ice read the latest casualty report, but nopony interrupted her. Their Princess had been lucky to snatch an hour or two of sleep between the constant attacks. Five hundred guards had accompanied her to this world; eighty-four of them still lived. They had aged years in those long weeks, becoming veterans more proficient and deadly than anypony in Equestria.

The sight of her little ponies, killing and being killed, wounded Celestia to her core. It was only those ponies best suited to conflict and slaughter that had survived this long. She still loved the remaining guards of course, but those ponies who had showed mercy, fear, or hesitancy had not lasted long. She struggled to pay attention, wanting to remember the name of each soldier who had died under her care. They deserved so much more, but that honor was the least she could do for them.

Despite her fine words to Sir Dresden, she knew it was well and truly time to return home. Not forever, but certainly long enough rest and heal. She would return better prepared to deal with the puppetmasters that pulled this world's strings. Unfortunately, that option was not open. The painstakingly constructed portal had been destroyed by the second dragon attack.

Sir Dresden been right that they were not like the dragons she had known. They had been stronger and more aggresive than even the fiercest of drakes in Equestria. She would have given either of them every jewel on the island if they had only asked, but both had attacked without preamble. She had been forced to killed both of them, sadly, but neither battle had been easy. In addition to wrecking the portal, the second dragon had broken one of her wings, shattering the delicate bones within. Ninety-five of her ponies had died in those battles, and the island had been torn to shreds.

Unnatural screeches reached her ears from the shore line as the Fomor abominations attacked their defenses again. The spells she had woven and re-woven into the very bedrock of the island released their energy again and again, killing dozens of the monstrosities. She winced. The spells had to be deadly; nothing could drive them away and a barrier could only hold so long against ten thousand brutal fists. The guards on duty handled the few monsters who survived the field of death that surrounded the island. That was more like a slaughter than any battle, weakened as the abominations were. Yet they couldn't be underestimated. More than one pony had died to a creature they had believed harmless. Eventually, the Fomor sorcerers would puzzle out her latest spells and weaken them in time for another attack. But that was later and she was so tired now.

Princess Celestia had killed dozens of Fomor mages and hundreds, maybe thousands, of their twisted creatures, but there always seemed to be more waiting in the murky depths. Even more terrifying was their practice of stealing the bodies of fallen ponies. Nopony knew what they did with them, but it couldn't have been pleasant. Funeral pyres had become mandatory, and even now Celestia could smell one of them burning.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," she croaked, and gestured for a guard to bring her water. He brought it forward, careful to avoid bumping her broken wing. "How goes the work on the portal?"

He grimaced. "Too slowly. The mages swear they are moving as quickly as possible, but it won't be completed for another three days at least." The mages and scientists of Equestria had fared better than the guards, but more than half of their number would never return home.

"We will hold," Princess Celestia commanded and her guard saluted. "We must hold," she whispered, more to herself than anypony else. Saying, however, was easier than doing. She was just so damned tired. Without warning, a rift in reality tore open; gray-cloaked humans armed with staves and pale, beautiful humans covered in blue-white armor and armed with swords poured into the room.

"Force them back into the rift!" Celestia shouted, seizing several in her telekinesis and tossing them back. If she could reach the portal, she could close it against these invaders. Her guards were already firing off spells at the humans or charging them. The cloaked ones brought forth shields of energy, most of which held, and the beautiful ones dodged with alien grace before relying with a quick counter-attack. A few humans sprawled bonelessly to the ground, but more and more continued to pour from the rift. The remains of the Royal Guard reacted with incredible speed, but they would soon be outnumbered.

Celestia turned, her horn glowing like a miniature sun. She would close the portal now, and they would simply have to fight the humans that had made it through. She never noticed the attack until it slammed into her. Alicorns were strong enough to defeat even the brawniest of earth ponies, but the force that crashed into her was far beyond that. She slid backwards several steps, losing the spell she had almost finished.

"I told you to leave," Sir Dresden said, flat and emotionless. He moved with even more of a predator's eerie grace, and his eyes were cold.

"I would like to," Celestia replied, her mouth twisted into a wry grimace, "but our way home was destroyed." She paused and sighed. "You don't have to do this; you can rise above your base human nature."

Sir Dresden said nothing, merely gathering that icy wellspring of power within himself. The blast of cold magic was met with her own jet of flames. The two forces struggled for dominance, but even exhausted, Celestia was able to force his spell back, her magic overcoming his. Until another blast of arctic power hit her from the side.

The beautiful humans had surrounded her, and that first blast was only the beginning. Wave after wave of winter magic washed over her, and she was forced to focus on defense. Thinking quickly, she teleported out of the ring of attackers. Celestia had barely reappeared before another spell hit her. She realized with stark clarity that they must have watched her fight with the dragons and expected such tactics.

"No! My dream cannot die here; it will not!" she shouted, fire streaming from her in a burst that melted every shard of ice the humans had summoned. A group of humans, both cloaked and beautiful, were heading towards the basement, where the mages were frantically trying to get the portal working. She landed among them with a crash and the heat surrounding her killed them instantly, setting their clothing afire. She turned her head, looking for the next threat to her ponies. But she was tired and her reactions had slowed.

Sir Dresden appeared before her in the throng of battle and ice poured from his outstretched hands, quenching the blazing heat around her. She fought against him, keeping that creeping cold at bay, but other humans followed his lead. Frozen power poured from them in a mighty stream. Celestia concentrated the heat around her, melting anything that came close, but their assault didn't weaken. If anything, it only grew stronger as time went on. The cold begin to break through, spots of frost forming on her coat, shards of ice gathering in her mane and tail.

Slowly, Celestia sank to her knees, her power still active but waning. It was cold, so cold, and she was exhausted. The light around her horn faded, flickered and died as her long-overworked magic finally gave out.

The freezing blasts stopped, but she was still frigid. Her body was unable to respond to the simplest of commands. She reached for more power, but found only emptiness. One of the humans neared her, his eyes hard but strangely sad.

"I just wanted to help," she whispered. "I would have given humans utopia." Her eyes closed, and small tears trickled from them, freezing as they reached her cheeks.

Sir Dresden laid a gentle hand on her, but she felt no warmth from it. "You meant well, but you couldn't build a utopia. Forcing people to change would have torn this world apart. I'm sorry it had to be this way."

He stood and his hand withdrew. Celestia gave a hollow laugh. "Is this justice for the humans who died? Do you really believe in washing blood with blood?"

"No, it's just the way of this world. Welcome to the jungle, Princess."

He might have said more, but all she heard after that was the sound of swords being unsheathed. And then she didn't hear anything at all.


End file.
